


fate finds the runaway (request)

by redbirb



Series: Tumblr Requests 2020 [14]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied Relationships, M/M, Minor Violence, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbirb/pseuds/redbirb
Summary: “What kind of tactic is this?”“Trying to get into your head,” a cocked brow and huff,” what’s it look like?”“Didn’t know your second profession was therapist, Deathstroke.”
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson - implied, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake/Slade Wilson - implied
Series: Tumblr Requests 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971637
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	fate finds the runaway (request)

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request I got on tumblr from an anon : " _Hey! If requests are still open then can I please ask for either SladeTim sparring or DickTim not actually unrequited soulmates with some misunderstandings thrown in. Thanks!_ "
> 
> I combined the two to make this a little more fun!

Tim has a dilemma.

He’s running from fate, cowering away from the hands that attempt to hold him close and keep him tied down. He’s not ready, he may never be ready.

“You’re distracted.”

A blow to his right temple, stinging, but gentled to not do too much damage. Tim grits his teeth, holds back a growl of annoyance. He swings for an abdomen punch, narrowly missing as his target steps back in time, catching onto his plan mid-motion. He attempts to block the next strike, but miscalculation has him taking the full brunt of a leg sweep, falling onto his hands and knees, pinned by a boot a second after the fall.

“I’m starting to think you aren’t all here with me,” Slade’s voice scolds him, digging his heel into the small of Tim’s back. “That’s rather disappointing.”

“Get off, jerk,” a hiss, trying to buck off the foot pressing him down.

“For such a beautiful mouth, you don’t speak sweetly.”

His cheeks turn hot, squirming with renewed energy spurred on by embarrassment and indignation. He manages to turn just enough to get a hand on a leg, planting his feet and twisting with all his strength. Slade falls and rolls gracefully, the bunch of his muscles showing through the thin cotton of a white shirt.

Tim doesn’t know what made him take Slade up on his offer to train (he does, it’s hard to admit it, to himself, and ever harder to anyone else). Slade said he had potential, that he wanted to know what under those dark crystal eyes and quips, however, the way the older man’s eye slowly trailed over him made Tim wonder what else he wanted to get underneath.

Slade heaved a sigh and walked a little aways to a chair that had been thrown into a corner. He sat in it, elbow rested on a knee and chin cupped in a palm. Tim had a brief thought of wondering what his white stubble would feel like against his own fingers before he shook it away.

“What’s the problem, small fry? You came here for training, but your head is in the clouds.”

Tim startles. _The hell is this?_

“What kind of tactic is this?”

“Trying to get into your head,” a cocked brow and huff,” what’s it look like?”

“Didn’t know your second profession was therapist, Deathstroke.”

He actually makes the man laugh, a rough sound that sends a shiver across his back. This feels almost unfathomable crouched in an underground facility with one of the deadliest contract killers being goaded into talking about his _feelings_. Tim would rather be fighting, proving his worth, keeping his thoughts to himself and hidden.

Slade has other ideas.

“What are you running from, kid?”

He glares. “Who says I’m running from anything?”

“The fact you took me up on my offer.” The man has a point, begrudging as Tim is to admit it. Maybe he should feel guiltier for agreeing, for turning tail (so he’s a coward about talking shit out, and who can blame him after all the trust issues he’s accumulated over the years). “Listen, I’ve had two sons and a daughter -”

“I’ve met her.”

“Listening is one of the few things I can offer. It’s not like you’ll take training seriously if your mind is somewhere else.”

Tim stares.

And stares.

And stares some more.

“Did I grow an eye back?”

Tim’s sputtered laughter bounces off the concrete walls. He’s dreaming, or hallucinating, something that isn’t a reality in which Deathstroke just made a joke to see him smile.

“So what is it,” continued after the laughter died out,” or… _who_ is it?”

Tim’s glare causes the older man to smile. “None of your business.”

“Must be family related then. There seems to be a lot of that in your little group.” Tim almost snorts at the ‘little’ bit. “The Batman then? Or maybe the new Robin? No… _Nightwing_.”

Involuntarily stiffening, Tim snarks,” You mean the person you like to stalk.”

“Jealous, kid? He’s different, like you, a lot of potential under all that…”

He bristles, in defense or something else he isn’t entirely sure. Deathstroke’s fascination with former Robins seems to run deep. Tim got caught in the crosshairs now, not the wisest of decisions. Then again, he’s been dealing with Ra’s al Ghul for years now, a far bigger threat than a wannabe mentor.

_Beeping_. It surprises them both, the alarm signalling a breach. Slade is on his feet, knife slipping out of a strap on his hip, but he doesn’t make it to the door before it’s kicked in. Tim should be shocked at what he sees, adrenaline pumping hard enough to make him feel dizzy.

A frown and fists greets Slade who is standing a few feet from the doorway.

Nightwing speaks. “I should have known you didn’t abandon this place. I don’t remember you blowing it up.”

“It’s served a great deal of purpose over the years. Maybe I got a little sentimental.”

A grit of teeth, the threat of a fight in the heat of his next words. “It’s time to give me back my _soulmate_.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! :) I'm currently working on requests over on my [tumblr](https://rainbowredrobin.tumblr.com). Follow me for sneak peaks to chapters and other writing stuff. Feel free to ask me questions or tell me what you think!


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